


Learned Your Lesson

by SephSung



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Blood, Come Eating, Come as Lube, Crying, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Homophobic Language, Humiliation, M/M, Objectification, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Rip Jisung, Sadism, Semi-Public Sex, Slut Shaming, Spanking, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 03:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SephSung/pseuds/SephSung
Summary: Jisung was used to people feeding his ego all throughout high school, and was disappointed when college came and no one paid him any attention. However, he was certain things would change if he could just befriend Chan and Hyunjin.





	Learned Your Lesson

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Next Class](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826089) by [triplebang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/triplebang/pseuds/triplebang). 



> So basically this is gross and SUPER fucked up and even if you're okay with that, there's a good chance you'll get uncomfortable while reading. PLEASE do not take the tags lightly, this is very, very graphic non-con with a lot of blood and other disturbing scenes, and also includes homophobic language and heavy suicidal thoughts. If there's even a small chance of any of that triggering you, PLEASE do not read this. If you decide to read this despite my warnings, I do not hold responsibility for any trauma caused. 
> 
> Please also note that this is a work of fiction. It does not reflect my actual views on homosexuality, and I absolutely do not condone any of this in reality. None of this is okay in real life.
> 
> After reading a very disturbing conversation on Twitter where someone felt the Jisung in this fic deserved everything he got and that it was "okay" because he "liked" it, I'd also like to add that absolutely no one deserves to be treated this way, and that even though his character in this is kind of a dick in the start, he definitely is not an exception to that. I repeat, NO ONE deserves any of this. And just because someone's body reacts to something positively, doesn't mean they actually like it and that it isn't rape. There is no consent, which means it very much still is. 
> 
> Anyways, good luck if you do choose to read.

Nobody told Jisung college would be like this.

He’d grown accustomed to immature high school kids who pay way too much mind to everyone around them, constantly gossiping and always trying to please whoever was at the top of the food chain. Everyone was always so desperate to get the slightest bit of attention. There, Jisung was an animal in his natural habitat; he knew how to command attention and could make everyone’s lives practically revolve around him. Jisung was thriving; life was perfect. He was perfect.

The moment he graduated, things tumbled downhill rapidly. He attended a semi-prestigious university - one he somehow made it into by the skin of his teeth, and it immediately became clear that he should have just followed his friends to the shitty local college. The classes were hard and everyone was too fucking serious. But of course, he just had to listen to his parents because he wanted to please them just as much as he did everyone else.

Jisung fucking hated college. No longer was he the hilarious boy everyone looked up to, cracking jokes as everyone waited with bated breath for his next words. He couldn’t show off his fancy new shoes his parents bought him and watch everyone’s eyes sparkle with envy. Nobody here was affected by his flashy displays in the slightest. In fact, nobody seemed to care about him at all. He even dyed his hair a bright blonde, hoping it could strike up some conversations, but he got nowhere.

He’d expected to find wild friends and attend huge parties, getting wasted off his ass so he’d have the most insane stories to impress everyone with the next day. He thought he would have a one night stand with a new woman every week, using them and losing them as he’d always done. Jisung didn’t do real feelings; he just wanted to receive love and be reminded that he is loved.

Instead of showing the affection he’d hoped for, women seemed to shy away from him. They called him a typical fuck boy. Jisung didn’t like that; he was a respectful young man, just one that happened to be a little greedy. He was fortunate enough to find a small friend group, but they simply.. weren’t enough for him. When they laughed at his jokes or invested themselves in his stories, he never quite felt that same spark he used to.

People used to love Jisung. Jisung was funny, talented, and handsome. Why hadn’t more people noticed him? For the first time in years, Jisung thought he experienced true sadness. So much time was spent mastering his perfect social-butterfly persona, and for what?

“Jisung-ie.” He heard an unfortunately familiar voice call out to him, ultimately deciding to ignore it. _If you don’t look, it’s not there,_ he reasoned.

“I know you can hear me.” He could practically hear the pout in Minho’s voice. Was this what he perfected his personality for? To be pined over by some nerdy dancer? The boy was constantly bothering him, always sitting with him at lunch and never taking no for an answer. Well, he supposed he’d never explicitly told him to leave him alone, but he dropped hints all the time.

He continued lamenting in his head, wondering where he went wrong as he watched a group of people, all surrounding two boys at a table in the distance, and the scene felt extremely familiar. It took him back to his high school days and he immediately began to imagine himself in their spots.

Everything clicked. There _were_ people that commanded attention here after all, Jisung just must have missed them before. The brunette at that table seemed to tell a really funny joke; the entire group burst into nearly maniacal laughter. He decided he would join them. He’d always been good at making his way into people’s lives, after all - it couldn’t be that different now. The attention he so dearly missed was just waiting to be snatched into his greedy little hands.

“Who are those two boys over there?” he asked Minho, hoping the loser could at least be good for information.

“Oh,” Minho squinted, “Hyunjin and Chan? They’re like, really popular. Do you want to talk to them? They’re in my dance class, I could-”

“No, I don’t need you. I will talk to them myself,” Jisung snapped quickly, vaguely remembering seeing them in his composition class before.

“O-oh, if you say so.” This time, he could hear more than a pout in his voice. There was a certain dejection in his tone that would make Jisung feel bad - if only he didn’t find him so damn annoying.

The next day, Jisung approached the both of them in class, and was surprised when they didn’t immediately accept him as a friend.

Rejection hit him like a bag of bricks. Of all the things that could happen, Jisung never considered that the two wouldn’t want to be friends with him. They were cool, Jisung was cool, so what was the issue? He figured that maybe they just needed time to be won over, so he tried again.

And again.

And again.

For four weeks, the blonde attempted to impress them. Never had he felt like anyone was so out of his reach. Was Jisung not good enough? Why did they only stare blankly, unamused, when he told his best jokes? Why weren’t they impressed with all his new, expensive stuff? They never overtly told him to go away, so he decided he wouldn’t give up. Maybe they were playing some weird game of hard-to-get, testing his determination. He couldn’t give up. He needed this.

The perfect opportunity arose in the form of Chan’s birthday. He told himself his gift had to be something so mind-blowingly amazing, they would have no choice but to accept him. With a slight smile on his face, he wrapped up a brand new pair of high-end shoes, tying a cute little pink bow around the gift. Minho had told him Chan likes pink, and even found out his shoe size for him.

He practiced his lines in the mirror the night before, imagining the way Chan’s eyes would light up as he received the gift. But something about his presentation was lacking. Maybe he wasn’t good enough after all?

Jisung looked through his cabinet, contemplating what he could do to improve himself. He settled on coloring his hair with a deep navy dye he still had from his emo days, and even put in icy blue contacts to compliment it. They would look stunning paired with the dark eyeliner he’d smudge on. This was it. Tomorrow, he would be perfect.

“What are you so happy about today?” the dancer asked him at lunch. Jisung was a little upset that he didn’t comment on his fresh appearance, but he didn’t let it get to him.

“I’m just really excited to give Chan-hyung his birthday gift,” he giggled, “I think he will like it a lot. And don’t I look good? He will like me, right?”

“Of course, Sungie. Why do you even care about him so much, though?” He tried really hard to ignore the nickname, making his slight wince as unnoticeable as possible. He didn’t like hearing Minho call him that.

“I... just do, okay?” he frowned. The last thing he wanted was to reveal anything personal to him. He was fully confident Minho wouldn’t betray him or spread rumors, but he never wanted anyone to know the way he soaked up attention like a sponge.

Minho seemed to accept that, albeit with a heavy sigh. “Alright. Hey, I... Maybe this isn’t a good time, but I feel like I have to do it now. There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

“I like you,” Minho looked at him, full of expectation, and Jisung couldn’t hide his disgusted reaction this time. He stared back at his twinkling eyes with a look of shock and revulsion. Minho immediately recoiled back, stuttering out apologies to try to fix the situation, but the blue-haired boy wasn’t having it.

“You...” he paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to collect himself, “I’m not fucking gay, you freak. Why would you think I’m a faggot like you?” he spat, venom dripping from his tongue, unable to calm himself. He ignored the look of complete and utter devastation on the older’s face and sighed again. “Fuck this, I’m going to class.”

Minho’s words weighed on him - crushing him, suffocating his mind, as he fled the lunchroom. He had to remind himself not to let them ruin his day. Just... Why would he think it’s okay to confess to him? Did he really think Jisung would like him back? Jisung wasn’t _like him._ A _freak_. A _fag_. He flopped against the wall outside the classroom, back slowly sliding down it until he was sitting, and let out a frustrated breath.

He was supposed to be focusing on impressing Chan and Hyunjin. All he had to do now was wait, and stop thinking about stupid Minho. This was the class he shared with the duo, so he knew they should be coming any minute now. He twiddled his thumbs and anxiously tapped his feet on the tile, trying not to let his mind swallow itself. Would Chan like it? Would he-

His thoughts were interrupted as footsteps approached. “Chan-hyung!” he rose to his feet swiftly, looking like an over-excited puppy. “I, um... I got you a present. Happy birthday!” He exclaimed, taking the gift from his backpack and offering it to him cutely with both hands.

The heavy silence in the air made him uncomfortable, so he started talking, blabbering on about nothing as he nervously watched Chan unwrap the shoe box. The silver-headed man’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to carefully examine its contents, turning a shoe around to look at it from different angles. Hyunjin watched from a short distance away.

“Do you like it, hyung?” Jisung shyly questioned.

Chan just frowned. “You must have spent a lot of money on these, huh?”

“I- yes, but it’s okay! I can afford it!” He smiled proudly.

“Is that so?” He seemed to consider him for a second, looking him up and down. Jisung just nodded, fidgeting under his gaze. Before he could say anything else, Hyunjin bounded over to Chan, full of energy, and put his arm around him.

“What’s up Channie?” He said cheerfully, eyeing Jisung a bit suspiciously as he looked between the two of them.

"Jisung here just got me a birthday present,” he replied with an odd lilt in his tone. The duo seemed to exchange a knowing glance.

Hyunjin inspected the shoes. “Aren’t these like, super expensive? Wow, Jisungie, you did really well getting him these.” He gave a reassuring smile and the boy absorbed the praise, melted under it even. He’d done well.

Chan gave him that same scrutinizing stare he did earlier, then his face relaxed into a slight smile as he finally appeared to settle on an opinion of him. “Your style is nice, too. The contacts suit you well. How about you hang out with us today, hm?”

 _This was it!_ The boy bounced up and down on his heels, agreeing enthusiastically. Chan and Hyunjin shared another look that he chose to ignore, instead opting to follow them when Hyunjin motioned for him to. He started talking about nothing again, hardly registering the many flights of steps they climbed, hardly registering Minho watching them pass with a frown, and not even questioning it when they ended up in a bathroom. It wasn’t until he heard the ominous click of a lock that he considered the situation he was in.

“What are we doing here?”

A final look was exchanged between Chan and Hyunjin, before they started backing Jisung into the handicap stall at the end, ignoring his apprehensive protests.

“Oh, you naive, annoying bitch. You really thought we would want to hang out with you?” Hyunjin snickered, moving closer. Jisung had never seen him act mean before; he’d always seemed kind and funny. Everyone always said he was a sweetheart, so the sudden bitterness in his voice was unnerving.

“What are you doing? Don’t touch me!” Chan pulled him backwards by the hair, shoving him fully into the stall and locking that door as well. “S-stop, I really don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing but-” he was cut off by a sharp sting to his face. Hyunjin had only slapped him lightly, but it felt like he had been rammed by a truck. An unfamiliar feeling that he couldn’t quite place pooled in his gut, and that stung more than the slap itself.

“Don’t catch an attitude with me, Jisung. Don’t bother fighting this, either,” he started giggling, a finger running down Jisung’s chest. The feather light touch somehow made him more uncomfortable than the slap. “You won’t get anywhere. Besides, we’re not going to do anything you don’t want. Nothing you don’t _deserve_.”

Panic coursed through his veins, he didn’t know what the fuck that meant, but he knew there was nothing that could happen in this grungy bathroom stall that he would want. He figured they would beat him up, and he sincerely did not think he could deal with that. Pain had never been something he could tolerate well. He had to flee, to get out - he couldn’t do this, he really couldn’t. So he ran.

“Where do you think you’re going, Jisungie?” Chan’s tone had that same odd lilt from earlier that he now recognized as teasing. He managed to make it out of the stall, unlocking the door to the hallway before strong arms grabbed him by the hips and pulled him back. Hyunjin just looked on, amused, as Chan dragged the squealing male back into the stall.

“Didn’t he tell you not to fight it?” Chan tsked, “Now things are going to be so, so much worse for you.” Jisung screamed as loudly as he could until Hyunjin decked him in the stomach, and he accepted that he really was going to get beat to a pulp.

“If you scream again, I’ll fucking choke you,” Hyunjin said, emphasizing his point by securing a hand tightly around Jisung’s small neck - just enough to pause his breathing for a second, but not enough to cut off air completely. Jisung gulped harshly beneath it, and Hyunjin just looked down at him, eyes glimmering with mischief.

“What did I do wrong?” The blue-haired boy wailed, eyes prickling with tears.

“What did you do wrong? Hmm, let’s think about this, shall we?” Hyunjin scoffed, “Do you not recall incessantly bothering us for the past month? God, every time you’d leave, we would bitch about how annoying you are. You’re really suffocating to be around, you know that?”

“I-I didn’t know you hated it. I’m sorry,” he cried, “I’ll never do it again, I’ll never talk to you again, just please don’t hurt me, plea-” he was cut off by Hyunjin roughly shoving his fingers into his pleading mouth.

“You talk way too much, it’s giving me a headache,” he rolled his eyes, feeling around with his fingers, poking just a little too far back so Jisung would gag slightly.

Chan shoved both of his arms behind his back and fastened them together with a rough material, “Alright, now listen carefully,” he said, laughing at the way Jisung tried to worm himself out of his strong grip, “You’re going to take everything we give you like a good boy, or I’ll make sure you can’t ever walk again, okay?”

Jisung nodded solemnly as Chan brought him down on his knees. He hated it, but he was completely powerless against them. He was weak, physically and mentally. He found himself flushing a little at the thought of being a good boy, and that embarrassed him. He’d always loved those words.

The tile was covered in dirt, debris, and substances he didn’t even want to think about. He figured this must be the top floor bathroom that the janitors never bothered to clean. The mere idea of how he was dirtying his clothes on it made him cringe internally. Hyunjin pulled his fingers out and reeled back a little, and the blue-haired boy closed his eyes, bracing himself for a punch.

Instead he heard the foreboding sound of the brunette pulling his zipper down - a sound that would stick with him for years to come - and his eyes shot open.

Hyunjin giggled, “I wish you could see the look on your face right now, Sungie,” he began to pull his pants down and slowly moved towards him. “You finally understand what’s happening, huh? The wheels in your stupid, empty brain finally turning? I know you want this, you little faggot. Why else would you have thirsted after us for weeks?”

Jisung’s first instinct was to try to run again, but he ended up just slamming his body against the bathroom door uselessly. Since his arms were bound behind him, he couldn’t unlock the door; he could only whine pathetically as he tried to use his legs, his nose, anything to unlock it.

“Aww, look at him go! You can do it sweetie!” Jisung flushed again; whether it was in anger, in humiliation, or in something else - he didn’t know. Soft giggles permeated the room, taunting him as he failed. He vaguely registered the sound of someone rummaging through a bag, and then arms were gripping him again, turning him around and forcing him to face them.

Chan began to cut his shirt off sloppily with a pair of scissors, throwing it aside carelessly. “You won’t be needing this anymore, slut" he jeered, running the scissors up and down his exposed stomach slowly, almost thoughtfully. The metal was cold, and it sent shivers down his delicate spine. A new fear, more intense than before, filled him to the brim. He realized he really didn’t know what these two were capable of - what exactly they would do to him. Surely they wouldn’t kill him in a public restroom, right?

While he was caught up in his worries, Hyunjin approached him with an inappropriate amount of leisureliness for the situation, putting his hands on his chest and coercing him into a sitting position. He smirked and shoved his grubby hands underneath the blue-haired boy’s waistband, pulling his pants down abruptly, and Jisung whined when he found himself completely exposed on the filthy floor. If he was cringing before, he was now trembling with the amount of disgust he felt as his bare ass touched the ground.

Chan kneeled down, and Jisung’s eyes immediately widened in terror as he moved the scissors closer and closer to his cock, tracing the skin around it. The pressure of it wasn’t enough to hurt him, but the cool silver against his skin and the thought of what he _could_ do with those scissors frightened him. His mouth opened into the beginning of a scream, but the sound was immediately smothered by rough hands.

In an instant, the scissors were pulled away and Chan shared a now familiar look with Hyunjin. “You were about to scream. What did he tell you about that?” Jisung shook his head, eyes full of apology. “You’re lucky, I think the both of us are suddenly feeling unusually generous. How about we make a bet?” He frowned at the younger’s lack of response, the boy just staring at him blankly, but continued anyways, “If you can make it to the main door within 30 seconds, we’ll let you go.”

Jisung agreed hastily. He could do that. 30 seconds was a lot of time just to get between the stall and the exit. He’d just crawl beneath the stall door instead of trying to unlock it, and then walking to the end would be easy. For the first time since he entered this bathroom, he wasn’t crushed by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness at his situation.

“Oh, umm... One little plot twist though, hehe,” Hyunjin looked at him, smiling so wide his eyes crinkled up into little crescent moons, “We’re going to tie your legs together now.”

His hopes were promptly crushed. Chan brought another rope from his bag, tightly fastening his legs together, not leaving a millimeter of space between them. The bindings were so rough he could feel them chafe against his skin with even the slightest movement; it was as if they’d picked the most uncomfortable way to restrain him possible. There was no way he could make it like this, but it was his only chance to escape whatever torment awaited him.

“All good to go! Are you ready for me to start the countdown?” The youngest nodded, getting down onto his stomach.

“Okay! Ready, set, go!” And Jisung tried his best, he really did. For the nth time that day, the bathroom was filled with the two boys’ laughter as they watched Jisung struggle. He could use neither his arms nor legs to propel himself forward, so he just awkwardly shimmied from side to side until he was out from underneath the stall.

“24, 23, 22.” The exit felt miles away. He tried to stand so he could hop there, but he was petrified and weak and couldn’t use his arms to balance himself, so he just flopped back down onto the floor, being forced to wiggle forward inch by agonizing inch.

Hyunjin opened the stall door and cooed at him, “Aww, look at you now! How does it feel to have your pathetic little cock rub all over this grimy floor, huh baby?” Jisung tried to ignore his words; he could not afford to feel shame right now. It felt terrible. It burned. It all hurt so much, but he had to keep going. “You’re all exposed, but I bet you’re used to that, hm? Ah, I wonder how long it’s been since they’ve cleaned this floor. I hope you get away, or we’ll have to play with a dirty little boy!”

He felt a piece of what he figured was broken glass dig into his stomach. He whined in pain, now leaving a trail of warm red liquid behind him as he moved, but he endured. There were less than 10 seconds left and the door was so, so close. A newfound determination surged through the boy’s entire body. He wiggled even more furiously, stretching his neck to close the gap between him and the door, when suddenly large hands pulled him backwards by the ankles.

“No!” he wailed feebly, hot tears threatening to fall onto his face. He desperately tried to gain the distance he’d lost again, but it was futile.

“3, 2, 1,” Chan finished, Jisung still about a foot from the door.

“Aww, this is just too bad, isn’t it Channie?”

“Definitely. We were really rooting for you, Jisung. You let us down.”

“B-but,” tears dripped from his eyes like a water faucet now, “Y-you pulled me, that’s against the rules, it’s not fair!”

“What rules?” Hyunjin placed a thumb underneath his chin gently, lifting it up so he could look into Jisung’s watery eyes, “There were no rules, idiot. And even if there were, you’d have no say in what they were. This is our game.” A harsh slap again echoed throughout the bathroom, and Jisung instinctively went to touch where he’d been hit, before he remembered his hands were bound.

His body went limp as Chan flipped him over and picked him up, carrying him back into the forsaken stall and laying him down on his back, head propped against the wall. This really wasn’t fair, he tried so hard, he did so well!

“Eww, you’re gross and bloody,” Hyunjin complained, straddling Jisung’s chest. “What’d you have to do that for, huh?” Another slap. He unzipped his pants.

“Please... no,” he pleaded weakly one last time, his words falling on deaf ears as Hyunjin pulled his cock out again. He scooted closer and rubbed the tip on Jisung’s heart-shaped lips, spreading his pre-cum all over them, and Jisung wanted to cry. He didn’t want it in his mouth.

“Fuck Jisung, you’ve got me so hard already,” he groaned. “You’ve really been desperate for our cocks. That’s why you won’t leave us alone, hm? You try to hit on women, but we all know how you really love to get fucked. You’re a freak, Jisung. An abomination.” The younger boy shook his head frenziedly.

“I’m not, I’m not gay, please, I’m really not. I’ve never been fucked before, please don’t do this,” Jisung slurred, feeling disgusted and embarrassed that they would think such a thing of him.

“Bad answer," Chan’s voice rang out; he’d almost forgotten he was there. He risked a glance, registering he had the scissors in his hands. “When will you learn, Jisung? You’re such a stupid baby.” Jisung panicked, trying to scoot farther away as Chan came closer, but between the wall behind him and Hyunjin on his chest, he couldn’t move an inch. Relief washed over him when all the older did was cut the rope keeping his legs together.

He enjoyed a breath of freedom, releasing air in his lungs he didn’t realize he was holding in. Though his relief didn’t last long; Chan’s prodding hands massaged his thighs, roughly spreading them apart. He opened his mouth to protest again, but his words turned into a gag as Hyunjin held his mouth open and thrust into him whole. His gag reflex was strong, and he made a loud retching noise the second he entered. He felt disgusting. Hyunjin tasted horrible - like salt mixed with something rotten. He briefly contemplated biting down.

“If you even consider trying anything funny, I’ll make you bleed more,” Hyunjin told him, and Jisung believed it, so he let him have his way. He gagged with every thrust, mucus beginning to form in his throat from crying so much. This was something he’d never even considered doing. His entire life, it’d been drilled into his brain that being gay was disgusting. And here he was with his face being fucked into a wall, while another man’s hands gravitated continuously closer to a spot he never wanted to be touched. He was miserable. He regretted ever thinking highly of these two.

“Oh fuck, you’re taking me so well, Sungie.” Hyunjin was rough. He pounded into his throat like Jisung was everything wrong with the world, releasing every pent up emotion from a thousand lifetimes into his poor body. “You almost look pretty like this.” And Jisung didn’t want to - he really didn’t - but the words stirred something deep inside him; he accidentally moaned softly around Hyunjin.

All movement stopped simultaneously as the three seemed to register what they’d just heard. More humiliated tears fell from his eyes because _why was his body reacting?_ It was hardly a compliment, and he didn’t want to impress them anymore anyways, never wanted to see them again.

“You like being praised, don’t you?” Jisung figured he didn’t expect a reply, as Hyunjin stayed buried deep in his mouth. “Ah, of course you do. I know your type, Sungie. You’re an attention whore.”

Jisung whined, wanting to defend himself, but the vibrations only served to turn Hyunjin on even more. He gripped the younger by the sides of his face, resuming his fast pace from before, but now moving him so he hit his head against the wall with every thrust.

“I’m so proud of you, taking all of me like this,” he cooed, observing the way Jisung squirmed. “You’re my perfect toy, your mouth is made for my cock. Fuck, you’re so good, Sungie.” Jisung moaned again. _Perfect._ His brain gripped onto the word and wouldn’t release it. Nobody had told him he was perfect in so long. Hyunjin thought he was perfect, did Chan too? _Why did he care?_

Jisung could barely process everything that was happening. His throat hurt more and more every time Hyunjin hit it, his head was starting to hurt from being pummeled against the wall, and he was certain Chan was leaving bruises all along his thighs. Through all of the pain, he could feel heat pooling in his own cock, and it terrified him.

Hyunjin’s thrusts became even more sloppy - if that was even possible - and Jisung prayed to whatever almighty power that he was almost done. He pulled out, and Jisung sputtered, drool dripping from his mouth, and gasped for breath. Precum and the mucus from his throat hung off the end of Hyunjin’s dick, and the sight made him want to vomit, but he almost found it in himself to be grateful - grateful because he would probably just release on his face. It would be over soon and he wasn’t making him eat his putrid cum.

“Ahh, I don’t want to cum yet. Your mouth is so good, I just want to feel you a little bit longer,” Hyunjin giggled breathily, backing up a little to take in the boy’s appearance: eyes glazed over, makeup smudged and streaking down his face, mouth swollen and completely abused. It wasn’t over. Jisung reminded himself to never be thankful for anything too early again.

He was ashamed - ashamed he blindly got himself into this situation, ashamed he could do nothing to stop it, and ashamed that his body was reacting positively to it. He didn’t want them to notice he’d gotten hard, but there was no way the man touching his legs could miss it. It was humiliating for them to know just how needy Jisung was, just how much he craved praise.

“You look so fucking dirty,” Chan said harshly, the drastic change between Hyunjin’s praising and his tone startling him a little. “You’re really the nastiest boy I’ve ever seen, rolling around on the bathroom floor like that. You’re getting everything even dirtier with your filthy blood, too.” Jisung had forgotten about the wound in his stomach. He could hardly feel it while every other sense was being overwhelmed.

“I think I know what’ll make him prettier," Hyunjin hopped off his chest, making his way towards the shoe box Jisung gifted. Chan stared at him with a raised eyebrow - for once, even he didn’t seem to know what Hyunjin was doing. The brunette smiled contently as he found what he was looking for: the pink ribbon Jisung tied into a bow on top of the box. Chan immediately seemed to get it; Jisung was as lost as ever.

“Look at the dumb bitch,” Chan laughed cruelly, “He really never understands anything, does he?”

“Mhm. I really can’t believe you’re hard from getting your face fucked, Sung,” he kneeled next to him, undoing the knot in the ribbon so he could put it on Jisung’s length instead, “You’re such a cockslut. You just wanted to be filled this entire time, didn’t you? Haven’t gotten enough dick lately? Admit it.” Jisung couldn’t find it in him to protest, too focused on Hyunjin wrapping the ribbon around the base of his cock. He pulled hard and Jisung gasped.

“Is this too tight?” Hyunjin asked, voice filled with mock concern. Jisung whimpered and nodded. “Mmm, I don’t think it is. Nothing is ever too much for our little whore.”

Chan inspected his work carefully, “You were right, the toy does look prettier now.” A smile was evident in his voice. He pulled him by the hair and threw him onto his knees, pushing him forward so he’d be on all fours - if only his arms weren’t bound. Unable to catch himself, Jisung was forced to watch the icky floor get closer and closer until his cheek connected with the cold tile.

Hyunjin looked at him with his cushiony cheek pressed into the ground and ass hanging in the air invitingly, and he practically squealed with joy, “It’s like a present, just for you! Happy birthday Channie-hyung!” he singsonged in a voice meant to mock Jisung’s from earlier.

He felt a presence directly behind him, and suddenly hands were gripping his ass.

“Ooh! I can’t wait to see what’s inside,” Chan mocked in the same tone. “Let’s open it up, shall we?” A finger circled his rim, continuously increasing in pressure and threatening to push in, and Jisung was afraid again when he felt the slightest hint of a burn.

“W-wait, shouldn’t it at least be wet first?” Jisung knew he made a mistake the second those words let his mouth.

“Oh, of course the slut wants us to get him wet,” Hyunjin giggled, “Mm... I don’t think you deserve it though? What do you think, Chan?” The eldest pushed his index finger inside Jisung abruptly, basking in the way his hole clenched to try to rid itself of the foreign invasion.

“I think maybe we should give him a little something. Not because he deserves it, but only because it would be so damn hard to fuck him dry like this,” he moved the finger around inside him, trying hard to stretch him out.

“Maybe you’re right,” Hyunjin pulled him up until his mouth was level with his leaking cock. Jisung’s scalp was starting to ache from them tugging him around like a ragdoll. “I’ll give you my cum, Sungie. Get you nice and wet. Do you want that?”

Jisung shook his head no. He wanted none of this.

“Wrong answer yet again, idiot.” Chan rolled his eyes, and then there was a second finger poking into his hole, and the burn he felt before multiplied. He was positive he couldn’t take any more like this.

“No, no, wait- please, I’m sorry. I want it.” He’d thought he’d run out of tears, but the fresh ones forming proved otherwise. “Please! It hurts, I need it.”

Hyunjin pulled his phone from his back pocket, pressing record on his camera as he rubbed his tip across his lips again. “Beg for it, Jisung. Tell everyone how much you want my cum.”

“I.. I can’t.” Chan spanked him and pressed into him harder, separating his two fingers to try to stretch him more, and he felt more hot tears start to fall. “Fuck... I... please...”

“That’s not good enough," Hyunjin looked at him with a disappointed frown that saddened Jisung more than it should have. “Hand me the scissors, Chan.”

Jisung’s eyes widened in terror at the sight of the silver in his hands. Chan had been the one wielding them both times before, and he was always scared, but he never felt like the silver-headed male would cut him. They somehow looked a million times more threatening paired with the dangerous glint in Hyunjin’s eyes.

“I’m going to get you wet for Chan one way or another. You can either beg for my cum like a good boy, or I’ll show you what happens to annoying brats who refuse to cooperate. This is your last chance, look into the camera and beg or else,” he declared.

The helpless male swallowed what little pride he had left, gazing into the lens with his intense blue eyes. “Please Hyunjin, give me your cum. I want it so bad. I want to be a good boy for you.”

Chan stopped fingering him, instead opting to spank him lightly then massage his sore cheeks. Hyunjin moaned, rutting against his face. “Keep going, baby. Where do you want it?”

“I want it inside my ass. Fuck, cum on my face then put it in my ass. Please get me wet, Hyunjin. Please, I’ll do anything. I need your cum inside me, please, please, please.” Anything to avoid the burn of Chan spreading him apart dry again. Anything for them to not hurt him even more.

“Shit, you’ve got me so close again already. I knew it was just a matter of time before you were begging for me to cum all over you. You’re such a dirty boy. Open up for me.”

Hyunjin groaned in pleasure as he hit the back of Jisung’s throat. He repeatedly pulled out fully before thrusting back in, using his open mouth like a toy. The boy gagged profusely and resisted the bile threatening to climb out of his body. There was no way the sounds coming out of his mouth were attractive, but they seemed to eat them up.

Hyunjin again rutted against his face, hips jerking irregularly. Before he knew it, he was releasing all over his precious cheeks, hot liquid hitting them softly, and then there was a sharp pain and a runnier liquid dripping down his shoulder. Hyunjin had cut him open. He screeched in horror, staring at the blood flowing down his arm.

The wound stung like hell, his hole still burned despite Chan having stopped fingering him, and he felt disgusted with all the new fluids coating his body. He couldn’t understand why he’d done this to him. He’d been a good boy, hadn’t he? He’d begged just like he’d asked.

Hyunjin didn’t seem to know why either. His face twisted into an odd look of... Regret? Confusion? Pity?

He didn’t have time to fully consider. Hyunjin’s expression quickly turned into one of shock as the main door opened - footsteps, a light humming, and the loud clash of scissors falling onto the floor echoing throughout the bathroom.

“Didn’t you lock it?” he whispered to Chan, panicked.

“I did originally. We must’ve forgotten to lock it again after he almost got out...”

They hadn’t planned this. This was his chance to escape. “Please hel-” he tried to yell, but he was cut off by Hyunjin inserting his softening dick back into his mouth, hissing at the oversensitivity.

“Jisung?” The unknown presence called out. Jisung was all too familiar with that voice. Where had he heard it before?

Then it dawned on him. Minho. Minho was here. Minho liked him. Minho adored him. Minho would save him. They wouldn’t be able to hurt him anymore because Minho would rescue him. He continued pleading for help against Hyunjin’s dick, hoping the dancer would understand something was wrong and come in.

“Jisung, is that you? What’s going on?”

“Jisung... Had a stomach ache, we’re just comforting him right now,” Hyunjin improvised poorly.

“Let me see him.” Minho’s concern was evident in his voice, as expected. He would thank Minho profusely after this, apologize for the way he’d acted. He really shouldn’t have treated someone that cared for him so much so badly, even if he was gay.

“I... don’t think he wants to be seen right now. Um, he’s really not looking too good,” Hyunjin countered, uncertainty plaguing his tone.

“If you don’t unlock the door, I’m coming underneath the stall.” His footsteps got nearer. Jisung continued pleading as best as he could.

“No, don’t, he really doesn’t want to see-”

Minho had ducked his head beneath the door, eyes widening as he observed Jisung’s current situation. The three of them stared back like deer in headlights, all movement halted. Jisung was on his knees, Chan’s hands still on his ass, Hyunjin’s dick in his mouth. His face was covered in cum, and he was bleeding from his shoulder and stomach. But worst of all, the ribbon tied around him acted like a cock ring, keeping him hard. What if Minho thought he liked it?

“Well, well, well,” the dancer started with an inflection in his tone that seemed unfitting for how Jisung thought he’d be feeling right now, “Looks like our cute little Jisung has gotten himself into quite the predicament, huh?” _No._ Why didn’t he seem concerned? Minho likes Jisung, shouldn’t he be desperate to save him right now? Why did he sound like that?

Hyunjin and Chan gave each other a meaningful look, both seeming to come to the same conclusion. “You… aren’t disturbed?”

“Let me in.” Chan was gone from behind him, unlocking the door. Minho entered and tilted his head as he looked at him fully, eyes raking over every inch of his body, bottom lip catching beneath his teeth as his gaze stopped between his legs. “So this is why you called me that stuff, huh? You’re insecure because you’re the one that loves taking dick. I shouldn’t be surprised - with the way you never shut the hell up about them, it’s no wonder you’re loving it. It’s always _Chan_ this, _Hyunjin_ that.” He rolled his eyes.

“So just bothering us wasn’t enough, huh? I bet everyone in the world knows how thirsty you are, how much you wanted this.” Chan swiped the cum off Jisung’s face, and it should feel nice to be rid of it, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be relieved at the slightly clean feeling. He remembered his words from earlier, and knew exactly what Chan planned to do. A finger pressed into his hole again, filling him up with the gross, sticky substance, and Jisung felt even dirtier than before.

“Come look at this, Minho,” Hyunjin removed himself from Jisung’s mouth, smiling at him mischievously before he motioned the dancer over to his phone. Jisung quickly found himself falling on his face again without Hyunjin to keep him upright.

“No... Please don’t show him,” he whined from the floor, three different giggles filling the air now. He flushed as he heard his own voice coming from the phone, begging for Hyunjin’s cum. He sounded wrecked, used, and desperate. This was humiliating.

“See? We’re just giving him what he wants.” Hyunjin nudged Jisung with his shoe, looking at Minho expectantly.

“Mmm. I do see. You know what he called me earlier?” Minho picked the boy up by the hair, rubbing his clothed crotch on his face. “A freak and a faggot. That’s hypocritical coming from someone who’s hard now, isn’t it? Have they even touched you? I bet they haven’t; you just love taking dick that much.”

“We haven’t. He likes it when we praise him, the little attention whore.” Chan pushed a second finger into him again, scissoring him open. “Oh Sungie, what are we going to do with you? I didn’t know you were an asshole as well as a slut.”

“We’ll just have to punish him,” Hyunjin declared, picking the scissors up from the floor and pressing the metal against his throat.

“Wait, I have something better for this.” Minho rummaged around his backpack for a while, the rest looking at him in various degrees of anticipation. He pulled out a knife - a real knife, probably meant for hunting - and smiled proudly. “Truthfully, I had a little something planned for Sungie today myself.”

Jisung stared at him in shock and horror; he’d never felt so betrayed in his life, and that was saying a lot given the position he’d already been in. Minho was supposed to be there for him unconditionally - that’s just how it had been ever since they met - but he had planned to hurt him even before Jisung had said those terrible things to him. This would scar him forever, mentally perhaps even more than physically.

He knew that there wouldn’t be a day in his life he wouldn’t think of the way two people he’d admired had mercilessly abused him on the bathroom floor. He knew that he would never feel clean again from getting his mouth, and probably soon his ass, fucked into oblivion. He knew that every time he would try to talk to someone in the future, all that would fill his mind would be Minho betraying him, and the idea that they could do the same at any moment. He knew that he would never be able to trust anyone again.

They’d already broken him, and he had a feeling it wasn’t even close to being over.

Every one of Jisung’s senses was on edge as Minho took Hyunjin’s spot. “Please don’t do this Minho,” he cried as he felt the sharp edge of the knife touch his chest. “I didn’t mean what I said, I swear I didn’t. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Minho please.”

“This is the first time you’ve said my name, or really paid any attention to me at all, Sungie. It’s nice. Really nice.” He dug in, and Jisung screamed. “Unfortunately, you need to be punished. You’re going to feel this for weeks, baby. Even after it heals, you’ll be reminded of exactly what you are every time you look at yourself. Always remember you deserve this.”

Every movement of his blade was torture. Minho was precise, decisive in his cuts, and a small part of Jisung that wasn’t focused on the pain wondered if he had done this to someone before. He could hardly even feel Chan spreading him apart anymore, and didn't even notice Hyunjin filming his actions. He didn’t know how many fingers were inside him. He couldn’t feel anything past the knife plunging into his skin. His head spun, he felt like he was going to faint, it was all too much. After many agonizing moments, Minho pulled away, admiring his work - the word ‘slut’ written proudly across his torso.

And maybe he did deserve this, Jisung thought. Years of using people and refusing to admit that he was manipulative all came flooding back. He’d treated so many people like shit, like they were just replaceable objects to be used at his disposal so he could get what he wanted. He’d never done anything quite like this, but maybe it was about time he was treated like an object, too. Jisung was bad. Jisung deserved to be punished.

Jisung wanted to die.

He was being pushed into the floor again, and he became suddenly aware of Chan aligning his cock with his hole. Despite admitting his actions warranted consequences, Jisung squirmed away. He didn’t want to feel any more pain. Hadn’t he suffered through enough? Apparently he hadn’t.

“Come on baby, your punishment is over,” Chan caressed his hips soothingly. “You did so well. I know you’re going to like this, relax,”

“I won’t like it. Please stop, just kill me,” he sobbed into the ground, trying to wiggle out of his grip. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“We’re not going to do that, Sungie. I’m going to fuck you no matter what, so stop moving. You’re only turning me on more by shaking your ass in the air like that,” he replied, and Jisung just fell limp. It was pathetic how he could do absolutely nothing to change his fate.

Chan was merciful enough to enter him slowly, trying to give him time to adjust to his length. It didn’t matter much anyways, he thought. It still hurt in a way Jisung had never experienced before. He knew what a cut or a slap felt like, but this was foreign. It felt like he was being split open by the largest shit he’d taken in his life, but in reverse.

“Not... enough... hyung, it hurts,” he choked out, immediately regretting his words yet again. He really needed to be more careful.

“Not enough? You want more, baby?” Chan shoved the rest of his dick into him harshly, and his blue eyes were leaking again. He nearly moaned in pain, but he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of such a noise.

“I-I meant I’m not wet enough still, it really burns.” Jisung really thought he’d pass out as Chan started to thrust into him faster. There was a weird pressure in his head that was starting to become unbearable, and he could feel blood consistently pouring out of his wounds. The one on his stomach wasn’t deep and clotted pretty quickly, so it only left dried trails down his body, but his chest and shoulder probably wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

“That’s too bad, little slut. I’ve waited too long to stop now. Maybe if you’re really nice to Jinnie or Minho, they’ll give you some more,” he growled, “but you better do it fast.”

He didn’t want to ask Minho. Hyunjin was awful, but he was better than Minho. It didn’t matter what he wanted though, because they both appeared in front of him. Before he knew it, he was being pulled by the hair again, and he was faced with the dick of the man he despised most now. It felt like they’d rip his hair from his scalp, and he was getting really fucking tired of being treated like a doll.

Minho tilted his chin up, trying to force him to look at him, but he closed his eyes in refusal. “Look at me, Jisung.” The younger shook his head and received a slap for it. “You don’t want me to cut you again, do you?” Jisung opened his eyes, full of rage. He hated Minho, hated looking at him, hated that he had to be touched by him.

“You know, Sungie, I always thought your cheeks were really cute,” Minho giggled and poked them lightly with his index finger. “I always wanted to do that. It’s so adorable when you’re eating and they fill up, it’s like you’re a little squirrel.” He pinched them lightly, smiling. “But it also made me think... I’d really like to poke them from the inside.”

His fingers dipped into his mouth, spreading him apart crudely as if he were catching him by two fish hooks. It stung a little and drool started to escape down his chin. Jisung tried to back away from the gross feeling, but Chan held him firmly in place and gave a particularly rough thrust as a warning, and Minho only started to tug harder. He didn’t think it was possible for his mouth to open this wide; it was getting to a point where he started to fear that Minho was trying to rip his face apart.

“You’re right, his cheeks are cute. This is a really good look on him,” Hyunjin tittered. “I love the way your mind works. But maybe we should stuff them with something else?”

It wasn’t until he looked up at the brunette that he realized he was still being filmed. A scalding wave of humiliation enveloped his body, and through that he suddenly became aware of how long his cock had been hard for and how painful it had become. He tried to tell them, but his complaints only came out as blubbering gibberish.

“What’s that? I don’t speak slut.” Minho finally released him, and Jisung opened and closed his mouth to try to soothe it.

“C-can you at least untie the ribbon? It’s starting to hurt,” he mumbled meekly, finding it hard to talk as every thrust from Chan shook his entire body.

“Fine, I suppose we don’t want your pitiful little cock falling off now, do we?” Jisung shook his head frantically. Minho slowly undid the bow, gripping him in a way that was not necessary as he did so, and Jisung tried to at least bask in the relief he felt from the lack of pressure. He could almost instantly feel the blood that was trapped there travelling elsewhere, his dick softening.

“You’re lucky he at least did that for you, baby. Are you going to take all of us now?” He knew he had no choice, so he just nodded obediently at Hyunjin’s words. “I’m turned on again just from watching you, doesn’t that make you feel good?” Jisung didn’t react, so Hyunjin slapped him unsparingly, and then there were two cocks in his face.

“What a good boy,” Minho pet his hair. “So willing and ready for us. Open up.”

And _no,_ Jisung was _not_ going to moan at those words, and he sure as hell would _never_ be getting hard from them again, and- fuck. It was slight, but the arousal was there. He shut his eyes tightly and offered his mouth to them, praying they wouldn’t notice.

If Hyunjin had tasted foul, Minho was absolutely revolting. He wondered if he’d even bothered showering after his dance practice earlier. Since he’d planned this, maybe he wanted to be as gross as possible for Jisung. He didn’t know if he could hold back the vomit threatening to crawl out of him as Minho pushed into his left cheek, stretching it out similarly to how he’d done earlier with his fingers. The dancer gestured for Hyunjin to enter as well, and they stood side-by-side, smushed together as if they were one disgusting being, as Hyunjin filled his other cheek.

He gagged less this way, but it was perhaps even less pleasant than having his throat fucked. The boy’s mouth was small; it wasn’t made to fit so much in it like this. They pushed into his cheeks relentlessly, stretching them so far he was positive the corners of his mouth would split at any second now. His poor ass wasn’t holding up much better. Chan now plunged fully in and out of him, completely losing himself in the way Jisung’s hole would widen around him when he entered, and how it would clench to try to prevent it from happening again when he pulled out.

“Such a pretty little squirrel, so fucking beautiful all filled up,” Hyunjin praised him. “Your cheeks are so soft and squishy, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.”

“Mm. But he could look prettier.” Minho was forcing his eyes open now, tugging the lid upwards. “I want to see your real eyes, they’re so big and brown. It’d really complete your image.” Jisung yelped in shock; Minho was digging his grubby fingers into his corneas, tearing the contacts out.

“Weren’t those too much just to try to impress us?” Chan snarled into his ear, now wrapping his arms around his torso as he started to fuck him properly, ruthlessly, his hands pinching his nipples and feeling up his wounds. “You must have been so happy when I complimented you earlier, you really thought you looked good, didn’t you?”

And Jisung had, but he wouldn’t admit that. He knew he’d never appreciate himself again after this anyways. He felt dirty and abused in every possible manner, and the other three were basking in it. He wondered how it was even possible to treat someone like this - how twisted and vile you had to be to reduce someone to an object - and then the same thoughts from earlier were submerging his mind. He deserves this.

Those thoughts didn’t have the chance to drown him though, because a particular thrust sent him into a frustratingly blissful warmth, and he couldn’t stop himself from moaning loudly around the dicks in his mouth. The sound felt deafening, and he started sobbing in mortification knowing _that_ came from _him_. He couldn’t enjoy this or he’d really never forgive himself; he’d really be a slut and all the terrible things they said.

“You like my cock that much, hm?” Chan was laughing into his ear. He licked a stripe across his lobe and breathed hot air onto it, then made an effort to repeat the same move that made Jisung see stars, reveling in every sound he forced out of Jisung’s mouth. He felt so _hot_ , his entire body was suffocatingly _hot_ , and he tried so hard to fight the feeling but he couldn’t make it go away.

“Fuck, listen to yourself, Sungie.” Hyunjin’s pace grew erratic, and he hoped this time he wouldn’t prolong his orgasm. “These whore sounds are way too much for me.” He shoved himself further into his cheek, fucking it with a now familiar reckless abandon, and Jisung thought he felt his mouth tear as Hyunjin came inside of it.

The flavor was even worse than he thought it’d be, and he wondered what the fuck the boy had been eating to taste this foul. Jisung wanted to spit it out, both to rid himself of the nastiness and for Chan to use it as lube, but Minho pushed himself into his throat the second Hyunjin left him.

“Swallow it,” he commanded, pinching Jisung’s nose so he had no way to breathe. The boy made a show of it so Minho would know he did as he was told, throat contracting around him and adam’s apple bobbing noticeably. But the slimy feeling crawling down his esophagus was too much for him, and he found himself retching loudly as he vomited in his mouth. Minho showed no mercy as he continued fucking his throat, still blocking his airways, and he was forced to swallow all of that too.

Everything was darkening, black spots filling his vision, as pleasure, pain, and nausea combined into one agonizing feeling. He couldn’t breathe, and he started to panic at the thought of being fucked to death like the stupid whore he was. He screamed with what felt like his last pocket of air, and Minho finally pulled out, slapping him so hard he fell onto his face - not that he’d have been able to stay upright, anyways.

Jisung sputtered and gasped for air, spitting all over the floor and inhaling large gulps to try to make up for the moments it was lost. He’d never take the ability to breathe for granted again. Minho knelt down next to him, eyes full of remorse.

“I’m sorry baby,” he pet his hair soothingly. “I shouldn’t have done that. Let me make it up to you.”

Minho helped him up gently, not pulling him by the hair for once, and Jisung knew he had to be faking it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care just yet - not with the way Chan was still thrusting directly into his prostate, and the way Minho’s hands started exploring him. Both sent shivers throughout his whole body.

A small part of him wanted to cum, sincerely hoped Minho would give his hard cock attention, but that would make him a whore. He couldn’t argue he didn’t like it anymore if he did that. But he was so fucking turned on, he couldn’t help bucking into Minho’s touch when he wrapped his hand around him.

“What a desperate little cockslut. You got this hard _again_ from being fucked?” He moved lightly up and down his length, emphasizing his point. “Admit you wanted this, and I’ll let you cum.”

Jisung frenziedly shook his head no. This was the last bit of dignity he had; he couldn’t admit it. He never wanted any of this to happen, and he still felt absolutely repulsed by the way his body was reacting, naturally leaning into the man he hated.

“Come on, Sungie. Don’t lie. Lying is bad, and you don’t want to be a bad boy, do you?” Minho started to jerk him off properly, matching the pace Chan set behind him. Jisung once again shook his head no, soft moans barely escaping his mouth. His bottom lip quivered as his will started wavering. He was getting so, so close, and he didn’t want to find out what they would do if he came, especially since he would never say he wanted it. He didn’t, he swore he didn’t.

A heat stronger than he’d ever felt engulfed his whole body, and Jisung knew he wouldn’t last much longer if Minho didn’t stop.

“Please stop, Minho... I’m gonna cum, I don’t want to- fuck.” He started meeting Chan’s thrusts halfway, and he found himself leaning into Minho’s shoulder, sobbing and moaning into it as the boy tangled his fingers into his hair. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. He felt so incredibly humiliated, and he knew would regret this with his whole entire being, but he really couldn’t stop himself. It was like his body was possessed with some wild need.

“Say it or I’ll stop,” Minho whispered into his ear. “You wanted to get fucked, right?”

“Y-yes, I wanted it,” he choked out between sobs, and then he couldn’t hold back anymore. He came profusely into his hand and all over the floor, his whole body twitching as he gasped and rocked himself against Chan’s cock. It felt amazing - a feeling so cold that it felt hot traveled through him. Soft, icy tingles swallowed him whole, enveloped every inch of him. It was so painfully and frustratingly euphoric - all so overwhelming, he found himself really blacking out this time.

He came back to reality slowly, his vision hazy and his hearing clogged, and then all at once as Minho hit him in the face with a handful of his own cum. He became tragically aware of how oversensitive he was becoming, and that same icy burn quickly became unpleasant as Chan continued to use his ass after his orgasm faded, and his hole naturally clenched in discomfort.

The shame hit him harder than Minho had. He really was a slut, and they would never let him live it down. And now, he just had to lay here and take everything they’d give him, with nothing to think about but the pain and many poor decisions he’d made.

Chan didn’t last much longer, pushed over the edge by Jisung’s orgasm, the sad whines that parted from his mouth, and the way he’d tightened up around him in pain when it started to hurt again. He filled him up with hot semen, making sure to finish deep inside so he’d have to feel it drip down his walls, and this was somehow worse than when they’d shoved Hyunjin’s load inside him earlier.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe. Chan stood up, zipped up his pants, and traded spots with Minho. The boy spanked him and spread his hole apart with his fingers as he’d done earlier to his face, opening him up as much as he could so Hyunjin could record his filthy, abused hole.

“What a dirty boy,” Hyunjin taunted as Minho spanked him again, this time with something hard. Jisung flinched, but refused to make a sound.

“He made the floor even dirtier too, look at that.” Minho was gone from behind him, now pulling him up by his hair and forcing him to look at his cum on the floor. He felt Chan’s cum start to leak out of him when he sat up, and squirmed uncomfortably at the gross feeling. “Lick it, slave.”

“What?” Jisung looked up at him with large eyes.

“I said to lick it.” Minho was moving him backwards and shoving his face towards the little puddle. “You made a mess, you have to clean it.”

Jisung had been through a lot so far, had done a lot of dirty, shameful things, but this - this surely was too much. There was nothing that could possibly be more degrading than being forced to lick his own cum off the grungy bathroom floor.

So he refused. Minho didn’t like that very much, and suddenly he was holding the bloody knife from earlier up to his face. “Jisung, you’re going to bend down and lick that up right now, or I’m going to carve my name into your cheek and you’ll be forced to think of me forever.”

To have the word ‘slut’ scarred into him forever was one thing. He had started to believe that was what he was, and no one else would see that anyways unless he was being one again. But to have ‘Minho’ engraved into his face - to have the repulsive man become a permanent stain he’d have to look at every time he walked past a mirror - that was another thing.

So he bent down, face-to-face with the mess he’d made. He lapped up every filthy drop from the unsanitary floor, Hyunjin’s camera of course catching every movement of his tongue. Jisung looked up expectantly when he finished, taking in their sick, sadistic faces.

Hyunjin and Chan looked pleased. “Remember, if you tell anyone what we did to you today, these videos will be spread everywhere before anything can even happen to us. You don’t want that, do you? They’re pretty incriminating,” Hyunjin reminded him, and Jisung’s face got hot as he recalled how completely wrecked and desperate he’d sounded earlier. He didn’t even want to think about the contents of the other videos.

Then they were patting him on the head, murmuring congratulations as if he’d just won a spelling bee. “You did really well today, Jisung. Maybe if you’re lucky, we’ll fuck you again some other time.”

And then he was left with Minho, and the terrible realization that the boy hadn’t cum yet.

The older looked at him with a sickeningly sweet smile, then gently laid him down on his back, spreading his legs apart and leaving tender kisses on the inside of his thighs. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, Sungie,” he whispered softly into his skin. “It’s a shame Chan got to fuck you before I did, though. A part of me knew you’d get yourself into something like this, that’s why I confessed to you today.”

Jisung couldn’t bring himself to respond, just silently taking in every word.

“None of this would have had to have happened if you’d just gone with me, baby.” He climbed on top of him and looked tenderly into his eyes. “I would’ve made love to you like I’m going to now, and we could have avoided all this extra suffering.”

Jisung felt nothing but regret and pain as Minho entered him. He could tell he was trying to be gentle, but he was impatient and needy, so he quickly started thrusting into him at a faster pace. “I want this to be good for you too, Sung. I’m sorry.” He started to pepper Jisung’s dirty face with kisses, and it should feel nice compared to everything else he’d been through, but he despised it like he despised Minho.

“Kiss me back,” the man whispered, planting a small kiss onto his lips, and Jisung really should’ve learned something about refusing by now. Minho stopped moving the second he shook his head, gazing into his eyes with a fury that made him wish he had just sucked it up and kissed him.

“So that’s how it’s going to be, hm? You just want to be used like a toy again?” He turned him onto his stomach instead, still inside him, and slammed his head into the ground. “You stupid fucking whore, I should’ve known better than to give you a chance.”

He felt a sharp pain dig into him, and then Minho was thrusting into him violently, unforgivingly, while leaving cut after cut on his back. Jisung mumbled meek apologies, but he wouldn’t hear it. He’d really fucked up, and now Minho was probably going to make him bleed out and die. He vaguely registered him moaning out Jisung’s name, burying his cum deep inside him, before everything went black again.

When he awoke, he was sitting on the toilet seat, legs kept spread apart by a rope attached to a pipe behind him, completely exposed in every way. He didn’t know how Minho had done it, but he was hard again - the same stupid pink ribbon from earlier tied around him to ensure he stayed that way. Said boy stood above him, looking down on him with sad eyes.

“It really didn’t have to be this way, Sungie. I hope you’ve learned your lesson for next time.” He leaned down to kiss him, and Jisung kissed back. “Good boy. Just for that, I’ll get help for you. There’s someone I know that can patch you up real well. He’d never hurt a fly.”

“But... I don’t want anyone else to see me like this,” Jisung whimpered.

“It’s okay, baby. There’s no reason to be embarrassed around him.” Minho smiled, leaning down for one last kiss before he left him all alone with his thoughts. The shame and disgust hit him all at once the second he left, and the tears flowed so rapidly he could drown in them. He’d thought it a million times today already, but it really sunk in just how much of a disgusting, used whore he was now that his head was clear. Every moment he’d suffered through deluged his head, and this time he’d certainly be washed away by the thought of them.

He’d been sitting there sobbing for what felt like an eternity, every painful feeling they left him with amplified as he was trapped with nothing else to focus on, when the bathroom door opened again.

“Hello? Jisung, are you in here?” a soft, honey-like voice called out.

“Please help me,” the weak male sniffled in return. He was so, so scared of how the person would react when they saw just how pathetic and open he looked.

“Are you okay? I got an anonymous call that you- oh.” The man, who Jisung now recognized as the school’s nurse, stopped dead in his tracks the moment he laid eyes on him.

Jisung knew he looked pitiful - snot, drool, tears, and blood covering his entire body, and one last ripple of shame swept through him before he went numb. He couldn’t bring himself to care what the older thought, as long as he put him out of his misery in some way. The events from earlier circled his head, and he decided he didn’t want help anymore; he just wanted to die. As long as he remembered everything that had happened today, he couldn’t live.

The man’s look of concern twisted into something he’d become well acquainted with as his gaze traveled down Jisung’s body in the same way Minho’s had earlier, even freezing on his hard cock. He stepped closer, observing the cum dripping out of his abused hole, and smiled at him.

“Oh, I see the problem. Don’t worry, Jisung. I’m going to help you alright,” the nurse snickered at him, and the poor, helpless boy screamed as soon as he felt his feather light touch. It would never truly be over.

Nobody told Jisung college would be like this.

**Author's Note:**

> If you actually made it this far, thank you for reading. I'd really appreciate any *actual* comments you might have! And thank you to triplebang for writing the lovely original fic, it was really interesting expanding on it and writing my own scenes.


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